


Never Known a Man Like You

by say_lene



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_lene/pseuds/say_lene
Summary: A collection of my tumblr prompt responses for m!Ryder/Reyes. One chapter per prompt, posted in order of filling.





	1. I Would

Kadara Port didn’t really have a work day, and it definitely didn’t have a weekend. It didn’t seem to have many parties, either, unless you counted the ones Sloane used to throw - but Scott had learned that some nights at Kralla’s came pretty close. Their timetable was predictable, too. The big nights always followed a Collective win, and Umi was always in a strangely good mood beforehand. Kadara Port was hundreds of feet above its closest water source, but the rhythm was like a tide. Ebb. Flow. Repeat.

Scott was grateful for it - because it meant he could avoid the crowds.

It wasn’t that he was _scared_ , although the bustle of a close-pressed throng still made the back of his neck prickle. It was caution, really, and care honed to its finest point. He and Reyes were keeping low profiles. It bothered him a little, though Scott would never have admitted it. The simmering anxiety; that niggling fear of exposure - it all got very tiring. There were times when he dreamed about screaming it from the roof of the palace.

 _Reyes is the Charlatan!_ _Come and fucking get us!_

But nights like these made up for all of it. They drank whiskey at the table by the window, eyes tracking the setting sun as red and yellow swamped the mountain. Reyes’ fingers brushed Scott’s wrist whenever he reached for the bottle - because why not? The quiet evenings were the safe ones, and a few plastered alcoholics weren’t going to connect any dots. A few glasses in, and Scott felt secure enough to shuffle close; to drag his lips along Reyes’ jawline, whispering the little phrases he knew he loved to hear.

Scott loved to say them, too. “You look so good tonight.”

Reyes smiled, turning his head to catch Scott’s lips. He didn’t quite kiss him. Not yet. “Don’t I always?”

Scott could never really say precisely what it was about Reyes that made his head feel so light; that made his nerves tingle and his stomach buzz like he was a goofy, love-struck teenager. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it was all of him.

“Sure, but something’s different right now.”

When Scott spoke, Reyes’ lips brushed his. The friction was barely there, but it sent something winding down his spine; swirling between his vertebrae, and slowly tightening its grip. Reyes kissed him, then, and a sparking warmth washed over him. It only lasted for a moment, but it felt like a dazed eternity. Scott tried to follow when Reyes pulled away. Reyes smirked, lips pulling out of reach, but Scott smoothed his hand over his stomach. He twisted his fingers in his shirt, tugging just hard enough to bring those sly lips back again.

The next kiss was gentler than the first, but it was slow and soft and teasing, too. Scott sighed into Reyes’ mouth. Nights like these made up for all of it.

Reyes broke the kiss to murmur something into Scott’s lips. “You’re one to talk. If you could see how beautiful you are like this -”

The upstairs door opened, and a _roar_ bounced off the walls. Scott jumped. Forgetting about everything but the danger, he craned his neck for a better view of the door. He reached for his gun on instinct -

But Reyes just leaned back in his chair, smiling fondly. “Relax,” he murmured, sliding his hand up Scott’s arm. His fingers dug in between Scott’s neck and shoulder, kneading out that tension that only he could ever disperse. “It’s just a party, Scott.”

“But Umi was so _grumpy_ -”

The rest of his words were lost in another wave of sound. Reyes was right; it _was_ a party. It was a big one, too. Kralla’s wasn’t the smallest bar Scott had been to, but enough people were pounding down the stairs to fill the place to bursting. He could feel his heart climbing higher in his chest with every pair of feet that touched the floor.

He pushed his chair back from the table. It was abrupt, he knew, but he was finding it harder to breathe. There were people crowding up to the bar; swarming the space around them while they clamoured for a drink. Scott stumbled to his feet, fumbling blindly for the railing behind him.

“Hey,” Reyes crooned softly. “It’s all right.”

He stood when Scott stood; moved when Scott moved. The hand he’d had on Scott’s shoulder moved to his wrist instead, and Scott had to wonder if he was checking his heart rate - but Reyes only pulled him over to the window. Reyes claimed a space in the corner, pressing his spine flat against the pillar, then pulled Scott backwards against his chest. His arms went around Scott’s waist, then, and his lips murmured quiet comforts in his ear. Scott leaned back against him, trying to keep his breathing even.

Reyes’ warmth helped. His lips did, too, just like his breath against Scott’s ear. The weight of the hands on his stomach was a firm and gentle anchor; an origin to ground him when the crowd might have swept him away.

It was a wedding party. Scott could see the bride at the centre of the throng, draped in the palest fabric she could scrounge. The groom was at her side, grinning like a fool. He had lipstick smeared over his chin. He clutched her hand while their guests cheered and hooted, shouting colourful rebuttals to their colourful suggestions. The orders at the bar flowed thick and fast, and Umi’s mood both soured and improved.

It was more than a little chaotic. Scott had his back to the windows, but he could tell that the sun was sinking those last few inches below the horizon. Beams of sunset red still made it to the mountain, but the angles were low. The colours were dim. Kralla’s neons were flaring to life instead, bright and garish and sweeping. They silhouetted the bodies contorting on the dancefloor. They made Scott’s eyes hurt.

Reyes rested his chin on Scott’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Scott whispered. Truth be told, he felt a moment of real fear. What if someone looked too closely?

But Reyes didn’t seem worried at all. “Are you sure?”

Scott nodded, and Reyes kissed the shell of his ear.

“All right.”

Scott wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but it must have been some time. The party turned rowdy - and even a little violent - but the happy couple were clearly having the time of their lives. They danced at the very centre of the crowd, arms waving and teeth flashing; throats bubbling over with laughter as they whirled circles through the lights. Someone found some confetti, and they got it almost everywhere.

A paper square landed on Scott’s nose. He shook it loose, feeling fragile enough to bruise. Darkness was settling over the port, and the cold air quickly followed - but Reyes was warm. He was a stripe of heat pressed flat against Scott’s back.

It was a little hard to speak. “Do you like weddings?”

Scott couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the smiling, shrieking couple. Everyone here must know them - and they didn’t look the least bit scared.

Reyes was silent for a moment, fingers tracing patterns on Scott’s stomach. “I do,” he murmured. “And not just for the alcohol.”

It was a moment before Scott could continue. He wanted to say _something_ , but he couldn’t find the right words. The ones he knew seemed too small to sum it up; pale, almost, and utterly insufficient. Nights like these made up for all of it.

Right?

“If it wasn’t for this,” Scott whispered, wishing away the lump in his throat. “If it wasn’t for… what you do. Would you marry me?”

Reyes’ arms went rigid. Scott’s heart wrapped itself around his neck as he waited for an answer. His lungs stopped dead on an inhale; froze like they were waiting for a bullet.

Then Reyes’ hands pressed harder against him, smoothing their way up over his chest. His lips brushed the skin behind Scott’s ear. He whispered his answer into Scott’s hair - but the words were loud and clear.

“I would.”


	2. Is That My Shirt?

Honestly, Reyes could get used to this.

The Tempest is a haven for him nowadays. Scott’s bed is almost _mountainous_ ; piled high with thick blankets and white pillows, and Reyes doesn’t have a single bad feeling to associate with the place. The room smells like Scott, and the lights are perpetually dim. The stars beyond the window are brighter, though, hovering around Kadara like the planet’s pulling joy into its orbit.

Reyes groans softly - but it’s a sound of pleasure, not discomfort. His limbs are heavy and his muscles feel _stretched_ , but it’s an exhaustion Reyes welcomes. It’s delicious instead of painful.

And it’s incredible, really, how he can still feel like this. Their romance isn’t new anymore - but Reyes is still head-over-heels.

He reaches out for Scott, but finds the other side of the bed empty. There’s a flicker of disappointment, but Reyes can hear water running. He must have gone for a shower. Reyes takes the opportunity to wriggle deeper under the blankets, closing his eyes. Maybe he’ll get a little more sleep before Scott comes back -

The water shuts off, and Reyes hears hurried footsteps in the corridor. He smiles to himself as the door mechanism whirs. His eyes drift open slowly, because even his eyelids feel heavy.

Scott’s wearing nothing but a towel. He can’t hold eye contact while Reyes’ eyes roam over him, because that’s just the kind of man Scott is. Shy. Lovely. Wonderful.

“Hi there,” Reyes purrs.

Scott’s still not looking at him, but Reyes can see him smiling. “Hey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Reyes stretches languorously, groaning as relief rolls down his spine. “I missed you.”

That makes Scott’s smile wider. He usually pulls a face at the corny stuff, but Reyes always tries it on anyway - because it sometimes makes him blush. It sometimes makes him look like he’s going to cry. Other times, it makes him fall into Reyes’ arms like the ground’s fallen out from beneath him.

Scott pads across the floor on silent feet, letting the towel fall away as he joins Reyes on the bed. He kisses him _hungrily_ , fingertips shivering when they brush Reyes’ cheeks. Reyes smiles into his lips, smoothing one palm down his back as Scott clambers over him. Scott’s skin is damp and his hair is wet, tracking droplets across Reyes’ face as he deepens the kiss. Scott winds up straddling him, fumbling blankets aside as he digs Reyes out from under his mountain. Finally, he manages to bare his chest -

And stops. “Is that my shirt?”

It takes Reyes a moment. He’d forgotten he was wearing it. “Yes,” he whispers into Scott’s mouth. “I didn’t think you’d mind -”

“My _Blasto_ shirt?” Scott’s eyes are wide. The muscles under Reyes’ hand are rigid.

“Yes,” Reyes says slowly. “Is that a -”

“Oh my god.” Scott sits back on his heels, staring down at Reyes in something that looks a lot like horror.

Reyes isn’t sure what to do. “Scott?”

“You never told me.”

“What?”

“I’ve looked like an _asshole_ all this time!”


	3. Bated Breath

Scott's fingertips were tingling. It was faint, at first, like popping candy dissolving in the oils on his skin. The sensation intensified with every passing minute. He was brimming over with nervous energy - and the overflow had nowhere to go.

"Is there a reason to be nervous, Pathfinder?"

"Maybe." SAM could be so human, sometimes, but this wasn't one of those times. "I'm not nervous, SAM. Not really."

"Your heart rate is elevated, and you are exhibiting numerous other signs of agitation."

Scott sighed. The cryo bay was cold even outside the pods. If he reached out - just briefly and barely - he could coat his fingertips in ice. His warmth left tracks through the frost on mom's pod.

"I didn't say I wasn't agitated. How much time do we have left?"

"The cryo bay security staff will return to their posts in a little over twelve minutes."

"Then where the hell is Reyes?" Twelve minutes was hardly time at all. "Try calling him again."

A few moments passed in silence. Scott took the time to try to quiet his pounding heart. Scott's deal with the security chief would only be in effect for so long, but Reyes wouldn't be late. He wouldn't let him down. This brief window - these precious, ephemeral minutes - had been weeks in the planning. Scott had traded away more goodwill with the Hyperion staff than he would probably ever earn again.

Scott brushed his hand across the pod again; his palm, this time, clearing away a swathe of ice. He couldn't see mom's face, of course, but it was nice to imagine that he could.

"Mr. Vidal is not responding."

Scott swallowed hard. The chill was creeping through his skin; eking into his muscles and pooling in his gut. "He promised he'd be here. Keep trying."

Scott stood there for precisely twelve minutes, watching the ice crystals reform. SAM never let up on the comm requests, but he didn't receive a reply. Scott's fragile certainty was the first thing to break, followed by his denial - and finally his composure. He blinked away tears that froze on his eyelashes almost the instant they appeared.

SAM felt it, too. His voice was almost gentle. "The security staff are returning to their stations, Scott. We have missed our window."

"Reyes has, you mean."

"That is correct."

\---

Scott was back on the Tempest by the time Reyes finally called. Meridian's pseudo-sunset had turned the Pathfinder's quarters into a white-gold grotto, but Scott saw none of it. He was curled up on his couch, eyes shut tight against the world.

"Scott." The tension in Reyes' voice was plain. "I'm so sorry it took me so long to call back. Are you all right?"

It felt like Scott's teeth were glued together. "Yes."

"Good." Reyes sighed explosively - and though the comm channel was audio only, Scott could practically see him raking a hand back through his hair. "Today has been an unending series of disasters. I barely managed a moment to _think,_ let alone -"

"I can't believe you forgot."

"What?"

Scott's throat was constricting, but the words burned their way to open air like a fire chasing oxygen. "This was important to me, Reyes."

"Ryder, I -" The moment realization hit him was tangible, in the way that negative space was visible and silence was heard. " _Shit_."

"You fucking _forgot_."

"I didn't forget, Scott, I just - shit." Reyes sucked down a harsh breath. It hissed through the comm link like air escaping into vacuum. "I'm so sorry."

Scott sighed. Sorry didn't cut it. He knew that Reyes loved him, and he knew that he loved Reyes, too - but there were moments when he wondered how a relationship like theirs stood a snowflake's chance on Elaaden. This was one of them.

"It's fine," Scott croaked. The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Can you forgive me?" Reyes' voice was soft - _always_ soft, when he wanted something - and Scott was utterly powerless to refuse him anything.

Usually.

"Yes." It was a lie, of course, and he suspected Reyes knew it. Scott had left all his capacity for forgiveness stuck to the ice on the outside of mom's pod. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I love you," Reyes began -

Scott hung up before he could finish. Climbing to his feet felt like pushing against a supergiant's gravity, but he managed to stumble over to his bed, kicking off his boots as he went. He didn't want to talk, and he didn't want forgive. He didn't even want to drink - which, on reflection, was a little surprising. He just wanted to mope.

He threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in his pillow. "If anyone asks, SAM, I'm sleeping."

"Are you all right, Scott?"

Scott sighed. "Maybe."

\---

The message came when Scott was buying coffee the next morning. No one had managed to cobble together a half-decent espresso machine yet, but hot and caffeinated would suit Scott just fine. SAM chirped in Scott's ear as he transferred the credits.

"Pathfinder. You have received a message from Mr. Vidal."

Scott thanked the barista - hoping his smile didn't look too strained - and waited until he'd moved out into one of the Hyperion's external plazas before he responded to the AI. His fingers danced around on the coffee cup, carefully mapping that line between pleasant warmth and burns. "What's the word count?"

There was a pause. "Although I can answer that question, I do not understand your reason for asking."

Scott scoffed. He took a sip of his drink. Hot. Caffeinated. _Good._ "A short message could be anything. It could be an apology, but it could also be a joke. Could be a link to a picture of a puppy. But a long message means a _long_ apology, or an explanation. I hate long messages."

"The message consists of nine words, Scott."

Scott shrugged, balancing his cup against a railing so he could open the message. "All right, then."

 

_To: Scott Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Come to the cryo bay. We have thirty minutes._

 

The letters seemed to blur across the surface of the omni-display, twisting and shifting until he couldn't be certain if they had ever really been there at all. "SAM -"

"The cryo bay security staff are not at their posts, Pathfinder. I suggest you hurry."

For a moment - so fleeting that it could have been imagined - the air around Scott turned thin. It was like he was in a bubble, invisible and impenetrable, and the space it contained had suddenly and dramatically expanded. He _could_ breathe - but he couldn't. He could think, but he couldn't.

Coffee forgotten, Scott took off at a run. The looks he received from unsuspecting bystanders ranged from shocked and affronted to scathing or amused, but Scott hardly noticed them. He ran like he had an architect on his heels, leaping flowerbeds and sliding down handrails; skidding around corners and hustling through empty security posts. Port Meridian's delicate balance of the sleek and the vibrant was utterly lost on him - because he had _thirty minutes._

Scott sprinted through the doors to the cryo bay on a bated breath and a staggered heartbeat - because he still hardly dared to believe his luck. But Reyes' words proved true; the cryo bay was silent and empty.

Except for one man. Reyes smiled as Scott approached. There was something hesitant about the way his lips quirked; something wary, and maybe a little afraid. There were deep shadows under his eyes, presumably from a sleepless night. His habitually perfect hair was mussed. Looking into his bloodshot eyes was like looking at a star afraid to burn.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come."

Scott couldn't find the words to answer, so he seized him by the collar instead, pulling him into the most purposeful kiss of his life. For another ephemeral instant, Reyes froze up - then melted into Scott's skin, calloused fingertips tugging at his wrists. When they came up for air, Reyes' hesitation was gone.

"How did you do it?" Scott asked. He couldn't help the awe in his voice. "When I asked for fifteen minutes, the security chief practically demanded a kidney."

Reyes chuckled. "Everyone has something they want, Scott. The nature of my work requires me to keep on top of them."

"Four minutes have passed since you received Mr. Vidal's message," SAM reminded them.

"We shouldn't delay," Scott croaked. His throat felt suddenly dry.

Reyes' fingers twined with his, comforting and warm. "Which pod is your mother's?"

The walk down the cryo bay storage corridor always felt like mapping the path of a funeral procession, but having Reyes at his side made it easier. He found mom's pod easily, of course; he didn't think he'd ever forget that ID number. He keyed up the command to operate the mechanical extraction arm and watched as the machinery retrieved the pod from its berth. Once it was at eye level, Scott could quite clearly see patterns in the layers of frost on its surface. He'd left them there himself.

Reyes' expression was solemn. His voice was a little tight. "What now?"

Now that the moment was on him, Scott didn't really know. "Shit," he muttered. He could feel a flush creeping up his neck.

What was he thinking? Mom couldn't hear him. For all the difference that dad's crazy plan made, it was as if she really had died back on Earth - and there was a good chance that it would all end in failure anyway. Some diseases just couldn't be cured. Some things just couldn't be fixed.

"This is stupid," Scott croaked. He shook his head frantically, trying to blink away embarrassing tears. "I really shouldn't have -"

"Shhh," Reyes murmured. He pulled Scott into a hug, one palm smoothing up his back to cradle his head. Gentle fingers carded through the short hairs along his hairline. "It's important to you," Reyes said softly. "So it's not stupid."

Scott pressed a kiss against Reyes' shoulder, hoping his tears weren't too obvious. "Thank you." He pulled away slowly, like he was just a hair's breadth clear of escape velocity, then reached out to brush his fingers over the pod again. "Hi, mom."

Shit. It _did_ sound stupid, but Reyes was right. It was important. If he didn't do this - if he walked away and wasted this second opportunity - Scott would probably never forgive himself.

"Sorry I haven't been back to see you in a while. It's weird, talking to a cryo pod. And I've been busy." Scott glanced at Reyes, ready to hone in on any hint of pity or mockery - but Reyes was smiling gently, amber eyes encouraging. Scott straightened his shoulders.

"I quite literally smuggled someone in here to see you," he went on. "This is Reyes. He's my -"

What _was_ Reyes, precisely? _Boyfriend_ sounded too casual, and they'd left casual somewhere back in Kadara's caves. _Partner_ was far too formal, and ambiguous besides. _Crime lord lover_ sounded like something teenage Scott would have said just to shock his mom.

"He's the man I'm in love with." Scott was hyperaware of the little catch in Reyes' breathing; of the minute increase in the pressure on his fingers. "I thought you might want to…I don't know. I thought that I should bring him here, just in case you don't wake up."

"Hello, Ellen." Reyes spoke up - hesitantly, again, but it had Scott fighting off a fresh wave of tears. "Can I call you Ellen?"

"Shit," Scott muttered again. He covered his eyes with his forearm, giggling helplessly. "This is nuts."

Reyes squeezed his hand. "Your son is an incredible man," he said quietly. "I'm glad to have the opportunity to thank you."

Scott's laughter abruptly died. His ribcage felt full of something magnified and tender, like his heart had inflated to occupy the space.

"You must be a wonderful woman, to have raised someone like Scott."

Scott was finding it hard to speak. "How long do we have, SAM?"

"Twenty minutes."

Scott looked back at Reyes; at the shadows under his eyes and the sympathetic tilt to his lips. It was a struggle to recall how he could ever have been angry with him. It was a struggle to recall how he had ever felt complete without him.

"Thank you," he said simply. He couldn't think of another way to say it; couldn't think of words quite beautiful enough to sum up what he felt.

But Reyes knew. "There's no hurry, Scott." He brushed his lips across the back of Scott's hand. "We've got all the time in the world."


End file.
